


Lost in the Northern Lands

by Magnolia822



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon, Bonding, Dubious Consent, Felching, Gangbang, Knotting, M/M, Magic Makes Them Do It, Mpreg, Multi, Multiple Orgasms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 01:01:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnolia822/pseuds/Magnolia822
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when four alphas and one in-heat omega get locked in a dungeon? Basically this. Written for the <a href="http://perverse-bang.livejournal.com/">Perverse Bang</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost in the Northern Lands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Melooza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melooza/gifts).



> Hugs and gropes to sapphirescribe and nu_breed for the prereads/betas and fr333bird for the Britpick! Also thanks, mods, for running such an awesome fest of porny goodness. xo

The sinister laughter of the witch faded as the gate clanged shut once again. Except for the sputtering torches that lined the dungeon walls, all was still, the men struck silent by her latest proclamation. _Three days_. Merlin ran his hands over his face and regarded the walls of their prison. 

“You have to get us out of here,” Arthur whispered. “I thought you were supposed to be the most powerful sorcerer that ever lived.” 

Merlin blinked. “I can’t use my magic . . . it’s like it’s muted down here, wherever we are.” It had been that way since they’d entered the Northern Kingdom on what now seemed an impetuous, foolhardy quest to reclaim the Cup of Life. Perhaps they’d got too ambitious, too confident in themselves since Morgana’s defeat. As they’d continued through the dense forest towards the castle that held that dangerous artefact, Merlin’s magic had begun to flicker like a candle in a drafty room. And now, held deep within the keep with walls of solid stone flanking them, he couldn’t focus it at all. Who knew how far within the earth they were trapped? 

Arthur’s pressed his side against Merlin’s. “Merlin, what’s going to happen in three days?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Well, I doubt she’s going to ask us up for supper.” Percival said from the other side of the room. Merlin caught his tired eyes—all of them had been afraid to sleep since their capture, but the deprivation was beginning to take its toll.

“I think it’s more likely she’ll have us _for_ supper.” 

“Thanks for that, Gwaine,” Arthur said. “Very helpful.” 

Gwaine groaned. “Great, now I’m thinking about supper. I could really go for a nice mutton pie with a lard crust. Mmm, some roast potatoes and a dark ale.” He smacked his lips and Merlin’s stomach growled in commiseration. It had been almost two days since they’d last eaten. 

Percival sighed and knocked his shoulder against Gwaine’s. “And a wench to share a tumble with after.” 

“Now you’re talking.”

“Sire,” said Leon, ignoring the other two. “We need to make a plan.” His handsome face was cast in a frown as he looked from Merlin to Arthur. 

Merlin nodded. He’d already checked the one entrance to their tomb for signs of weakness and found none. The gate was constructed out of a strange metal that vibrated faintly when he approached. A powerful magic thrummed through it; he was almost positive it would prove fatal to the touch. 

“What do you suggest?” Arthur asked. 

“Maybe the next time she comes we can try to overpower her.” Leon’s voice wavered. They’d been stripped of their swords and armour during the capture. Merlin shuddered as he recalled the creatures who’d done it; horrible, dwarf-like beings with misshapen faces and teeth sharp enough to shear through flesh like knives. 

“I think we’re probably better off bargaining,” Merlin said. “We have no idea how large her army is. And without my magic and any weapons . . .” 

Arthur squeezed his hand. Neither of them wanted to face what they nearly had at Camlann ever again, Merlin knew, but he was surprised when Arthur laced their fingers together. His stomach gave a subtle lurch. It made him forget for an instant they were in a similar danger once again. 

“Bargaining?” Percival snorted and stood, his bulk barely able to unfurl in the narrow confines of the cave. “I think you’re more likely to strike a deal with one of the beasts that brought us here.” 

“I’m afraid Merlin’s right,” Arthur said. He traced a little circle in the centre of Merlin’s palm with his thumb. “We should at least try to reason with her. And then, if all else fails, we won’t go down without a fight.” 

The witch didn’t return that day, however, nor did she return the next. Time stopped making sense; the hours and minutes bled into one another so that Merlin could no longer tell how long they’d been held captive. Frustration began to make the knights snappish, and hunger only worsened their moods. When they were finally given sustenance, the water was brackish and grey, the bread stale and old, and barely enough for five grown men to stay alive. 

The only other time Merlin had felt this powerless had nearly been the end of them all. Yet now, rather than being completely lost to him as it had been when the Eancanah had drained his power, his magic shimmered just out of reach. Every time he tried to call it up, it slipped further away, like a figure retreating through a dense mist. There was some sort of block in his mind. It was impossible to meet Arthur’s eyes, certain of the disappointment he would see there. 

Another day, or what Merlin thought was a day, passed when he heard footsteps in the tunnel beyond their prison. He lifted his head, a difficult manoeuvre given the weakness of his body, and beheld a cloaked figure.

“Emrys,” said the sweet voice. “How do you and your knights fare?” The witch took down her hood, revealing smooth porcelain skin and long yellow hair. Now that he could get a proper look at her, her face was rounded with youth and deceptively innocent. In spite of appearances Merlin knew she must be very old; drinking from the Cup had gifted her with unnatural long life and beauty. 

“Arthur,” Merlin whispered, shaking the arm of the sleeping figure next to him. Arthur immediately sprung to his feet and grasped at his waist for his non-existent sword. The other knights had risen as well and stood flanking Arthur, but it was Merlin to whom the witch spoke.

“Emrys, you don’t answer. I presume you are not enjoying your stay?” 

“Let us go.” He moved to stand between the knights and Arthur and the witch, whose eyes were black in the near darkness. “You can’t keep us here like animals.” 

“Isn’t that what men are?” She paused as though she would say something more, and then her expression changed. Merlin might have even called it warm under any other circumstance. “You have no idea why I brought you here, do you?”

“Brought us? What are you talking about?” Arthur asked. The decision to reclaim the Cup of Life from the Northern lands had been Arthur and Merlin’s alone. She didn’t even spare him a glance, and instead replied to Merlin as though he had spoken. 

“You’re speaking of the Cup? That is merely a trifle.” 

Dread formed in the pit of Merlin’s stomach and snaked its way into his throat. She tilted her head and brought her fingers to her chin in thought. 

“You want evidence of my intentions? So be it.” 

She snapped her fingers, and in an instant their prison was transformed. Instead of a dank, barren cave, they found themselves in chambers more opulent than the finest in Camelot. The hugest bed Merlin had ever seen appeared to his left, covered in satin and soft-looking pillows that made his weary body ache. 

“What kind of sorcery is this?” Leon demanded as the first of a series of maidens entered carrying trays laden with food. Others carried buckets of steaming water, which they proceeded to pour into several large bathing vessels. The solemn-faced women wore gauzy robes that showed off voluptuous, youthful bodies, but Merlin immediately mistrusted their forms. Certainly it was an illusion. Gwaine and Percival, however, stared with their mouths gaping. They allowed the women to disrobe them and then lead them towards the baths. 

“So much for the escape plan,” Arthur said close to Merlin’s ear. But then they too were compelled to come forward and wash themselves in the hot baths. Merlin felt as though he was living a waking dream. Hands caressed him and washed him in the most intimate places, and yet he could not resist. His mind remained pleasantly numb. All the while, the witch watched her ladies in waiting with a bemused expression that Merlin didn’t understand. He glanced over to where Arthur was receiving similar attentions in the adjacent bath; the red-haired woman who washed him had tight, rose-tipped breasts that grazed Arthur’s shoulder as she leaned over him. Merlin had to look away. 

“Enjoying yourself, Lord Emrys?” the witch asked. When he didn’t answer she clucked and shook her head. “Yes, ‘tis a pity you’re not roused by the flesh of women. A pity indeed. Ah, well, it is as I expected.” 

Merlin’s face grew as hot as the bathwater. “What do you want with us?”

“You will see.” 

By now the women had led the knights out of their baths and dried them with clean white linen. Merlin crossed his arms over his chest and frowned even as he too was urged out, dried, and dressed in a silk cloak that barely covered his parts. His own clothes had vanished. Nothing remained of their original prison or their things; all was softness, luxury, and deception.

The witch came toward him with her transfixing black eyes. “You must be very hungry,” she said. It was then that Merlin noticed the intoxicating scent of the dishes that had been brought in earlier. His nostrils flared for a second before he managed to restrain himself. 

“ _I’m_ very hungry,” Gwaine said, from where he was being primped and pampered by a tawny woman with long black hair. He grinned at her. “I could eat all night.” 

“There is plenty to go around. You should eat something, please,” the witch said. With another snap of her fingers, the women obediently left the knights and filed out of the room, hips swaying. With that distraction gone, all eyes turned to the feast of meats and fish and pies and fruits—Merlin had never seen such a display. He was drawn to it, but something in the back of his mind warned him not to eat despite his hunger. 

“How do we know it’s not poisoned?” Arthur asked, though he sounded dazed. 

“If I wanted to kill you, King, you would be dead by now. This feast is a sign of my goodwill. I’m sorry to have kept you and your knights as prisoners, and in the morning if you should wish it, you may leave. No one will stop you.” 

Still, no one made a move toward the food. The witch’s smile grew. She bent down and selected a ripe fruit, then took a bite. “Delicious. Really, you must try some.” 

“I think we’ll pass,” Merlin said.

“Oh, no. I don’t think so.” She smiled again. “Eat. You will need your strength.” 

With that strange declaration she was gone, and the gate—now an iron door—clanged shut once again. Not prisoners, indeed. Merlin rushed forward but the same thrumming current stopped him from thrusting his weight against the door. 

“Bollocks!” Merlin whirled around and kicked one of the plates. Its contents splattered everywhere. Next to him, Arthur shuddered and sank onto his haunches in front of the feast. 

“I’m sure just one bite won’t hurt us,” Percival said. 

Merlin shook his head. “No, don’t you see? The food’s enchanted. This castle, everything, it’s an illusion. You have to resist.”

But Gwaine moved towards Percival. “Percival is right. She seemed like an all right sort of wench after all.”

“ _An all right sort of wench_? Listen to yourselves! If you eat it there’s no telling what will happen. It could be poisoned—or worse!” 

“Calm down, Merlin. There’s nothing to worry about.” Leon’s voice sounded like a sleepwalker’s. 

“Arthur, don’t!” Merlin said, but Arthur was already reaching towards a plate, and even as Merlin spoke, his own stomach rumbled from days of starvation. His mouth watered and his mind grew cloudy. Surely just a little taste wouldn’t harm them. It would be a shame to waste all the food. He knew there was a reason why they shouldn’t indulge, but that reason suddenly seemed so very unimportant with Arthur beckoning to him. 

He moved forward and accepted the piece of meat Arthur offered him. The delicious spice coated his tongue and warmed his belly, and he took another piece, this time fed to him hand to mouth. Arthur’s eyes lit up as Merlin licked his lips and opened them again, wanting more. The herbs that flavoured the meat seemed familiar and somehow comforting. He let his tongue dart out to taste Arthur’s fingers as well. Arthur appeared to enjoy feeding him; he smiled as Merlin took another bite, his eyes focused on Merlin’s mouth. For so long Merlin had wanted Arthur to look at him in this intimate way, but ever since their uneasy victory at Camlann, Arthur had changed. At first Merlin had worried Arthur still hadn’t forgiven him for lying about his magic after all, but then Gwen had taken separate chambers and stopped dining alone with the king. They still appeared together at feasts and royal functions, but the easy friendship they’d always shared was visibly strained. Merlin didn’t know what it meant. 

All around them, the knights had given into their hunger and were falling upon the feast like animals—and what had the witch said? It didn’t matter, even if this was all just an illusion brought on by dark magic. His mind grew heavy and he forgot everything but Arthur and the taste of the delicious food, and then Merlin knew no more. 

Some time later, Merlin woke to warmth prickling down his spine. At first it was mild, almost pleasant, but then a fierce burn erupted low in his gut. He had climaxed in his sleep, he realised from the wet patch on his belly—but his prick was still hard. 

“Oh gods.” Merlin rolled onto his side. His whole body lurched as another wave of heat crashed over him, a hot lance of pain that seared his insides even while his cock begged to be touched. He stared down from where he lay on the gigantic bed, bleary eyed, at the empty plates they’d nearly licked clean. _The herbs_. He knew exactly what they were now; since magic had been decreed legal in Camelot, he’d often seen Gaius mixing the special blend given to omegas after a bonding ceremony to assist with breeding. They’d bring on an omega’s heat and increase the potency of an alpha ten-fold, even when taken in small quantities. Merlin tried to recall how much he’d ingested and couldn’t, but the throbbing erection under the thin material of his robe was answer enough. His heat had come upon him and now nothing could be done. 

Luckily Arthur and the rest of the knights were still sleeping on the bed behind him, faces peaceful and limbs as tangled together as lovers’. Merlin turned onto his side and tugged himself, sliding his hand easily over his shaft, which was slickened from his first release. His cock was hot to the touch and pulsing though he’d just spent himself, and desire rose in him, fuelled by the smell of so many alphas nearby. He stroked and muffled his groans with a pillow. 

From the time he was very small, his mother had always warned him from letting any alpha other than his eventual mate see him like this; the risk of accidental conception was too great. Still, he couldn’t resist the demands of his body. It felt too good, better than he remembered, when he touched himself, and when he stopped the pain became excruciating. 

It didn’t take long before he was coating his hand liberally in seed, his arse spasming as the pain faded before it surged once again. He’d been on suppressants ever since he’d arrived in Camelot and become Arthur’s manservant. Even after his magic had been revealed, he’d held onto this other, even more shameful secret—he wasn’t the beta Arthur and the knights thought him to be. And now when the others woke, the truth would be exposed in this most embarrassing, base fashion. 

Just as he feared, his erection returned almost instantaneously, even more insistent than before: giving in to the pleasure was like fanning a flame. Worse, his hole had begun to leak lubrication and there was nothing to absorb it but the flimsy robe. He reached between his legs and touched his tender opening; he was so very empty and it _hurt._

Perhaps he let out a gasp. He was unaware of anything but the throbbing need that began in his cock and arse and rolled through his body on each exhale. Sweat prickled the back of his neck and his armpits and groin and he knew his musk had already scented the air. He thought of the others waking and finding him like this with his hand on his prick and he nearly came again. 

Arthur was the first to stir. “Merlin? What is it? Gods—what are you . . .” 

It couldn’t be hidden, and though he thought he might die of shame, Merlin didn’t stop stroking himself. He closed his eyes and felt the bed shift as Arthur drew nearer. Could he be imagining the smell of arousal coming from Arthur? But no, he couldn’t fabricate the bliss of a velvet-soft mouth tasting the skin at his neck, just at the pulse point where his scent would be strongest. Arthur let out a quiet groan. “I thought there were no more secrets between us.”

Merlin hissed as he rubbed the over-sensitive head of his cock. “Didn’t want you to know. It was those herbs.” 

“They brought on your heat?” 

“My—yes. I’m—” He didn’t even know what he had been about to say; his arse gaped and leaked, eager for the head of Arthur’s cock. Arthur touched him and drew him close; his hands slid lower to rove over Merlin’s belly. Gods, he’d needed this for so long but he’d never wanted it to be like this, not because he was like _this._ He’d wanted Arthur to make the choice on his own, not under the influence of potent herbs and their own biology, but now it was too late. Arthur buried his face under Merlin’s arm and breathed deeply. 

“You smell good.” 

“A-arthur.” 

“Shh, I’ll take care of you.” A hand brushed against Merlin’s fevered brow, and he turned his head to welcome the wet slide of Arthur’s tongue into his mouth. The thick length of Arthur’s arousal prodded his arse; already the knot at the base would be swollen with the need to mount. Merlin’s mouth watered as he kissed Arthur. He wanted to drink Arthur’s come, wanted it to fill him up. With his cloudy, unfocused gaze Arthur seemed just as gone. He made greedy, snuffling sounds as he ravaged Merlin’s mouth and ripped his robe open. 

Merlin almost cried when Arthur’s hand replaced his own on his rigid cock. It was leaking fluid onto his belly, still slick from his last release. Every time Arthur stopped stroking him it was like being roasted over hot coals. He whimpered and wriggled his arse so that Arthur would touch him inside and stop the pain. 

Arthur’s arousal grew pungent and sharp, mingling with his own. Merlin could think of nothing but the blissful slide of Arthur’s fingers into his slickened arse, how they pushed against the space inside of him that hurt being so empty. He whined and tried to take them further. The witch—she wanted—what exactly? Oh, he didn’t care, not when Arthur’s mouth descended upon his again. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to put my cock inside you.” 

“Gods, yes, please.” Merlin could barely recognise the sound of his own voice. 

“You should have told me before, you idiot.” 

“And what, you prat? You’re married.” 

“But not mated.” 

Arthur sucked at Merlin’s neck so hard he must have brought blood to the skin. Merlin didn’t care. The fingers inside him weren’t enough. He needed Arthur’s cock.

“Please.” 

Instead of pushing in deep, Arthur hesitated. “Have you ever been serviced before?” 

“No, no. Do it, please. Please. It hurts.” Merlin rolled his hips and hitched one leg up, presenting himself. Arthur growled. 

“S-sire?” Leon’s confused voice broke through the intimacy. He sniffed the air. “Gods, what are you—you can’t, not here.” 

“I can, and I bloody well will.” Without further ado, Arthur pushed his cock into Merlin’s core. The breach caused an orgasm that Merlin was helpless to control. His cock leapt and spurted hot come onto the silk coverlet. Arthur’s teeth gripped his neck as he began to thrust, every slide luscious and heavy, deep into Merlin’s belly. Merlin had to close his eyes and push back against the slight swell of the knot, wanting it inside to soothe the ache, but Arthur didn’t appear to be in a hurry to tie himself. He shoved his hips against Merlin’s and grunted savagely on each inward stroke. His own heat had overtaken him. 

It took a while for Merlin to notice other hands had joined Arthur’s on his body. A hot mouth closed on his and it didn’t taste like Arthur’s. A wet mouth enveloped Merlin’s cock and sucked another climax out of him. Merlin tried to push himself against all of the mouths and hands upon him. He licked into the mouth that was kissing him, tongues tangling. 

His body was on fire and his mind was gone. Hands stroked his scalp and pinched his hardened nipples. Another mouth—maybe the one that had brought him off, maybe another, was at his prick again, swallowing him deep. When Merlin opened his eyes, Gwaine knelt before him, displaying his hard cock, swollen at the base just like Arthur’s. As Arthur continued to fuck him from behind, his noises growing louder, Merlin sucked the tip of Gwaine’s cock and let the taste coat his tongue, then opened his mouth to take the whole length into his throat. 

“Gods, you’re gorgeous like this, Merlin,” Gwaine said with a grin. “Gagging for my cock.” Merlin would have shot back a retort but for the need to keep Gwaine in his mouth. 

Finally, Arthur’s fuck grew slower and the swell of the knot began to press in. Merlin released Gwaine and lost focus on everything but the girth of the knot; Arthur’s hands caressed Merlin’s abdomen when he finally found his purchase and started to come, his cock pulsing in the clench of Merlin’s body. Merlin sighed and sagged back against Arthur as the semen began to soothe his ache. 

It was then Arthur finally seemed to realise the other men had awoken and were participating very enthusiastically. His hands spread wide across Merlin’s chest as though he would cover all of the exposed skin. 

“Don’t—touch him.” 

“I’m sorry, Sire,” Leon said, his face twisted with lust and grief. “I can’t stay away.” His cock was an angry red, leaking a thin trail of early seed onto the bed below. He let out a fraught sound and captured Merlin’s nipple between his teeth. Nearby, Percival leaned back against a mound of pillows and stroked his own huge cock, eyes focused intently on Merlin. 

“You want them.” Arthur’s voice held an accusation. 

Merlin fought for the words to say no, he didn’t, not in the way that really meant something, but his brain fizzled as Arthur’s cock pulsed more seed, the orgasm making Arthur shiver and cry out. Merlin turned his head to find Arthur’s mouth and silence him. They were still tied together, close as they could be, but Arthur’s hips shifted like he would push in further still. 

The candles around the bed flickered and went out. 

Someone was groaning. The hands on his body became more insistent; they prodded where he and Arthur were joined and, oh gods, a mouth went between his legs and nuzzled there. His balls were licked and taken inside an exquisite warm place. They tightened further, readying another release. 

But Arthur had stopped coming, and his prick soon softened and slipped out. Merlin cried out at the loss and the pain of the heat that flared through his body again. 

Arthur shushed him and petted his head, but it did no good. “Merlin, what do you need? Tell me.” 

Someone else touched his hole, fingers slipping through Arthur’s come. 

“I need another knot. Gods, someone please, it hurts.” 

“I’ll do it.” Percival’s voice was soft in spite of his obvious arousal. “Sire, if you’ll permit?” 

Another wave of pain crashed over Merlin; face twisted in agony, he arched off the bed. 

Arthur grunted his assent and moved away. 

In an instant, Merlin was embraced back against a massive body, held by strong arms as the head of a prick breached him. It was gigantic and Merlin cried out. The grip steadied him and drew him down until he slid onto the impossible length and thickness of Percival’s cock. He panted, surprised at how easily the penetration happened, how good it felt. He squirmed on the cock inside him and rested his head on Percival’s broad shoulder. Hands did the rest, lifting and seating him again and again until Percival’s knot began to catch on his rim. Pleasure shivered up Merlin’s spine and he spurted a bit, weakly, into someone’s lapping mouth. 

Obscene, wet sounds rose out of the darkness. They were a mass of male bodies, a tangle of limbs, mouths, and cocks. He imagined maybe Leon was sucking Arthur, that perhaps Gwaine was fingering Percival’s arse from behind. Merlin was stuffed full and afraid of the girth of the knot expanding inside of him, but he wanted it, wanted Percival’s seed to join and mingle with Arthur’s. 

“Gods, I’m coming,” Percival whispered. He let out a groan and clutched Merlin as the first flood erupted. Merlin felt every shift and twitch of the giant cock inside of him; curious, he reached under his legs to feel the breadth of the knot stopping him up, the way his hole stretched to accommodate it. A bit of come had leaked out and, without thinking, Merlin brought his fingers to his mouth to taste. He suckled on them, greedy, aware of the nudge of Percival’s cock deep inside his fertile place. 

After his initial climax, Percival lay them down on their sides and held Merlin clasped to his chest. Every so often he tensed, and Merlin felt the expanse of the knot pulsing with another release. Merlin lost track of the time, just let his insides be soothed by the come blurting into his belly, filling him up. He’d heard omegas speak of the bliss of being knotted, kitchen girls and stable boys back at the palace whispering together. Still, he’d denied himself and his own nature. In the name of protecting Arthur, he’d gladly accepted the heat suppressants Gaius concocted for him. If Merlin was being honest, he hadn’t wanted to attract the attention of another alpha, someone other than Arthur. And yet now here he was with a hungry knight rutting between his thighs and Arthur only an arm’s length away. Arthur, who he’d finally had—and might never again. The thought, a barely coherent, bone-deep dread, slipped into his mind even as his body was licked and kissed and pleasure threatened to overwhelm him. 

As soon as Percival softened, the heat returned with a burning force. Merlin whimpered, desperate, needing someone in his mouth, in his arse. He cast around blindly and reached out until Leon pulled him up and onto all fours. His chest hair rasped against Merlin’s back as he mounted. His prick went in easily, and he fucked Merlin like an eager dog, spearing in and out and making Merlin’s eyes roll back in his head. The latch happened almost by accident, Leon’s hips catching on a downward stroke. He tried to pull out again and his knot tugged on Merlin’s tender rim. 

“Are we breeding you? Is that what we’re doing?” Leon whispered in Merlin’s ear. He was coming, shuddering as he released his seed. 

“I don’t know. Yes.”

Leon’s full weight came to rest on Merlin, and they sank onto the bed, the heavy realisation kept at bay by an orgasm that rolled over his body, making him tremble from fingertips to toes. Merlin hitched his hips, the silk catching his spill as Leon ground his cock in further and groaned with another climax. He bit the nape of Merlin’s neck, letting out a sound that was more animal than human. 

One of the candles hissed to life again, and Merlin realised that Arthur was watching them, very quiet and still. 

“Are you okay?” Arthur asked. The small, flickering light shadowed his face. 

“I don’t know. I think so.” 

Arthur reached out and stroked Merlin’s cheek. “Does it feel good?” 

Merlin couldn’t stifle the moan of pleasure as another pulse of come flooded him; he clenched around the length inside him. Arthur responded with a wry smile. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

Instead of drawing away like Merlin feared, however, Arthur leaned forward and kissed him, slow and deep. He held Merlin’s head in his hands like Merlin was something precious, and Merlin remembered what Arthur had said about not having mated Gwen. He couldn’t ask about it, though, not with Arthur’s sweet tongue in his mouth.

Percival had succumbed once again to sleep and lay snoring, but Gwaine was still roused and ready to take Leon’s place after he finished and slipped from Merlin’s hole. Again, that needy emptiness hit Merlin with force, but this time the edge was less sharp. Still, he sighed in pleasure as Gwaine held him and pushed his cock deep. Next to them, Leon had curled up against Percival’s side and fallen instantly asleep. They looked innocent, and Merlin suddenly wondered if this was all a dream. 

“If you get with child from this, I’ll help you.” Gwaine started a steady thrust with his hands on Merlin’s arse. “I’ll make sure you never want for anything.” 

“Thanks for the sentiment, Gwaine,” Arthur said before Merlin could respond. “But _I’ll_ be the one caring for Merlin.” 

All of the seed inside of him made Merlin feel as though he was already full with child. He let the rocking of Gwaine’s hips lull him, warmed by Arthur’s words in spite of their grumpy tone. He was almost asleep when Gwaine’s knot expanded and tied them together, his cock pulsing out more soothing come. That was the last thing Merlin remembered. 

He woke sometime later to a candlelit room, aware that during his slumber he and Gwaine had separated, and that now a mouth was at his hole. A wet tongue bathed him tenderly, and he turned his head to see Arthur’s golden head bent over him. Come slipped down his bollocks and between his thighs and Arthur lapped it up. Merlin waited for the pain of his heat, and instead was met only with a fierce throb in his chest. 

“Arthur,” he whispered. 

Without a word, Arthur flipped Merlin onto his back and pushed his legs open, moving between them again. His mouth was warm and wet on Merlin’s used hole. He sucked and licked and, as Merlin came fully awake, he realised Arthur’s intent. 

“It hasn’t happened,” Merlin said. “You don’t have to worry.” Omegas’ bodies were, after all, able to immediately recognise the signs of conception. The witch’s plan to use him as a brood mare for whatever reason had failed. The heat was over. 

Arthur grunted and glared up at him. “I don’t care.” His mouth was soft and insistent, and Merlin sighed, closed his eyes, and let Arthur’s tongue breach him. His arousal returned, but this time it was his own. He didn’t make a move to touch his erection, though, and Arthur didn’t pay it any attention, so intent on his task. 

When he’d finally finished, Arthur lay down next to Merlin with a self-satisfied expression on his face. For the first time since all this had started, Merlin had the leisure to admire the firm muscles of Arthur’s arms and the broad expanse of his chest. It was a body he’d washed and dressed every day for years and knew as well as his own but, now that he was Court Sorcerer and no longer a manservant, hadn’t seen for far too long. Arthur’s nipples were perfectly round and Merlin longed to spend hours kissing them, to caress every inch of Arthur’s golden skin with his tongue now that he could. If Arthur would let him. If this wasn’t just some perverse fantasy created to torture him. He touched Arthur’s side, just above the near-fatal wound he’d received at the end of Mordred’s sword. How easily Arthur could have been lost to him forever. 

As if sensing his thoughts, Arthur encircled Merlin’s waist and drew him closer, so that they were pressed together. “What now? Are we to be trapped here forever?” 

“No, we won’t. We’ll find a way out.” Despite the surety of his words, Merlin could still feel the block on his magic; the witch’s power was strong in the room. Merlin hesitated before he spoke again. “Did you mean what you said before, about not mating Gwen?” 

Arthur sighed. “She’s still in love with Lancelot, though he is dead and she denies it. And I . . .” The look on his face left no doubt as to the words he seemed unable to voice. He bit his lip. “Is it wrong that I want you to be full of my child? Gods, I feel as though I’ll die if I don’t have you again.” Arthur’s erection nudged Merlin’s thigh. The head was slick with evidence of a longstanding arousal. 

Merlin kissed Arthur and tasted the mingling climaxes of the knights on his tongue. Yet underneath it all was Arthur, his beloved king and friend, and now—if they got out of this alive—his mate. 

This time when Arthur pushed his cock inside, he stayed there, not making a move to withdraw. A low throb of pleasure, more resonant than any he’d felt during the long night, tingled at the base of Merlin’s spine. As Arthur rolled his hips in tight circles, his knot began to expand and tie them together. Merlin instinctually tipped his pelvis back to grant access to the rigid length. 

Arthur shuddered against Merlin’s back as he started to come. His warm lips caressed Merlin’s neck, gentling over the bruises that other mouths had left before him. 

“No one else, ever again,” Arthur said. 

“There’s only ever been you.” 

“I’m going to put my child in you if it’s the last thing I do, Merlin.” Arthur spoke as though the effort of mating Merlin had stolen his breath. “You were meant for _my_ seed, and mine alone.” His embrace tightened. “Can you feel it? My seed’s inside of you now.” 

“Yes, gods, I want it.” Yes, he could feel Arthur’s seed spurting into his darkest recesses, seeking out the magic that called to it. Their mouths found each other while Arthur rocked against him.

“I will give it all to you,” Arthur whispered. He traced his tongue along the seam of Merlin’s lips. 

It went on and on, and Merlin’s orgasm built slowly; Arthur stroked his over-used, sensitive length with care. A strange feeling stole over Merlin, as though he were both asleep and awake. He was on the verge of finding something; he would find it if he just pressed on. Arthur’s knot throbbed in tandem with their beating hearts. The blood rushed in his ears, drowning out all other sound. Two heartbeats, but under the thrum of them, another, light flutter, an impossibility. Merlin gasped and came, clenching on Arthur’s knot and milking the last of his seed. He was dimly aware of Arthur murmuring his name even as the dam burst and magic rushed through his veins. The walls of the room shimmered and the ground rocked, the illusion of opulence shattering as they found themselves once again on the hard floor of a cave: their original prison. 

Arthur’s arms were tight around him as his knot softened and his cock slipped free. “Merlin, what’s happened?” 

Merlin didn’t have a chance to answer; the gate swung open and a hag appeared, bent with age and wrinkled beyond human recognition. Only her black eyes remained familiar. 

“Emrys!” Her minions swarmed around her, no longer maidens, but now the same terrible beasts that had taken them prisoner. They snapped their teeth and grimaced as though they would advance. With a wave of his hand, Merlin forced them back. They retreated, cowering, behind their ancient mistress. 

“You have no more power over us, witch,” Merlin said. “Your time is over.” 

“No!” she squealed. “I must have that child! I must. Emrys, you will not leave this castle until the child is born.” Her voice grew dark and she seemed to rise in stature, but now Merlin understood her for what she was—a conjurer of tricks. Merlin came forward, naked and sure. As he strode through the cave the crone’s eyes flashed, but nothing happened; her magic had been drained by the elaborate illusions. 

“You’ve never had the Cup, have you?” he demanded. “It was all a lie to get us here, wasn’t it? Answer me!” 

She cowered, but there was a devious glint in her eyes. “You wouldn’t harm an old woman, would you, Emrys? Not a great sorcerer like you. Not when you carry the seed of the King.” 

“Don’t try me.” 

He heard startled voices coming from behind. The knights had woken. Merlin turned to Arthur. “Get them out of here, quickly.” 

Arthur looked as though he would protest for a moment, but then he nodded. The witch and her minions did nothing to stop them. 

“You won’t kill me, Emrys,” she said. “You’re too good, too fair.” 

Rage boiled through Merlin’s veins. He shook his head. “Not _too_ fair.” 

Sometime later, Merlin emerged into the sunlight carrying Excalibur. He spared a last glance over his shoulder for the crone, forever entombed in a prison of her own making, before he moved to join the group of still-dazed knights sitting naked in the dappled sunlight. Arthur came forward and embraced him. “Don’t make me leave you again, not like that.” 

“I’m sorry. I’m all right.” Merlin kissed Arthur and restored his sword. “She won’t be getting free any time soon.” 

“Was she right, about . . .” Arthur’s hopeful eyes made Merlin’s stomach flutter. 

“Yes.” Merlin grinned. 

“And this means—?” 

“Yes.” 

Arthur swung Merlin around and laughed like one possessed, so Merlin laughed in turn. The knights stared at them like they were both completely mad. 

“Um,” Gwaine said. “This might be a stupid question, but what the hell just happened? And did I just see you two kiss?” 

Percival scratched his head. “I had the strangest dream, but this—this might be stranger.” 

Leon glanced down at his naked front. “How in the world did we manage to escape? And where are my clothes?”

Merlin and Arthur exchanged a glance. 

“It’s a long story.” 

And the road home, too, was long.


End file.
